


I Never Really Knew You

by Tamahariel



Series: Drabbles [2]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Character Death, Drabble, Dragon Age Prompt Generator, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-12
Updated: 2013-08-12
Packaged: 2017-12-23 06:11:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/922937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tamahariel/pseuds/Tamahariel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt generator: Varric Tethras/Bethany Hawke "I never really knew you"</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Never Really Knew You

They’d all heard the story: A family of four fleeing the darkspawn, only three of them reaching a safe haven… of a sort. Kirkwall was more of a port, a temporary docking for the travel weary than a haven. But it cradled, and confined, those who were left to fend for themselves. Life went on, for the most part. 

But the past doesn’t simply disappear. It doesn’t even diminish. In fact, if it does anything at all, it grows. Just like the chasms between family members or wrinkles of grief, eventually consuming the lines of laughter and joy. 

Months and years went by without the physical presence of a daughter, a sister, and still, somehow the fourth was there. In the shadow beneath a mother’s eyes, hovering at an older brother’s shoulder. A reflection in the glass before it was shattered. 

It made it all very obvious that people never -truly- go away. They leave their marks on the world, on their surroundings and the people they interact with. Leaving pieces scattered behind, like a threadbare scarf that once graced a neck or a sooty burn on a gauntlet that was, by far, too small for comfort. 

They were light things to carry through the day and put away at night, only to one day never put on in the morning. Much lighter than the memories that would, admittedly, fade just like the red cloth and the hardened leather. 

But unlike the physical evidence, the memories would always remain. Closer than any armor, ingrained into the flesh and bones of the survivors in a way firmer than ink on parchment. Meant to remain forever; or at least to last a lifetime lived without reminders and replacements.

Varric never really knew her, but he saw her all the same in the traces left behind. Mayhap he even saw her amongst the motes of dust in the air, vainly brushed off a pair of fine pants; the cloth not threadbare, but fading all the same. 

Brushed off, the motes danced away, forced from one settlement in search for a new one. Just like a girl barely eighteen, dead earth rising at the fall of her broken frame, dancing to a whisper in the disturbed wind. 

Amidst all of the devastation and fear, a single point of light faded, but never disappeared. From time to time it would make itself known once more, as dazzling as ever.

It was something brilliant. Something vital. A little like sunshine.


End file.
